


The Wicker King [Reddie AU]

by mythic_bxtch



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King, The Wicker King - K. Ancrum
Genre: Eddie Kaspbrak is a Mess, Friends to Lovers, Lots of Angst, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Reddie endgame, aged up losers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-05
Updated: 2020-04-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:55:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23500099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mythic_bxtch/pseuds/mythic_bxtch
Summary: Richie Tozier is a misfit with a pyro steak and Eddie Kaspbrak is the golden boy of Derry and star football player. Both boys are drastically different, but they’ve been friends since childhood.When Eddie begins to have increasingly vivid hallucinations, Richie decides that he has to help him the only way he knows how too- by playing along and believing him and believing in the fantasy world that begins to slowly overtake Eddie’s reality.Eddie and Richie struggle to keep their sanity as they fall deeper into a world that isn’t reality.[Heavily Inspired by the Book:The Wicker King -written by K. AncrumI’m just putting my own twist on the characters and the story. Please read the book, it’s amazing!  :)]
Relationships: Beverly Marsh/Richie Tozier, Eddie Kaspbrak/ Female OC, Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Past Bill Denbrough/ Richie Tozier
Kudos: 4





	1. The House on Neibolt Street

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos To: The Wicker King~ K. Ancrum for being the inspiration for this story!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Richie and Eddie break into the house on Neibolt street for the first time. 
> 
> Richie needs a cigarette.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy!

1998

Richie and Eddie were 13 the first time they broke into the old house at the end of Neibolt street. Richie was the one who proposed the idea, but he never thought Eddie would go along with it. Unfortunately for Richie, Eddie insisted that it was totally badass. So there they were. It was almost midnight, and freezing outside and Richie was fucking terrified. He pushed his dark curls out of his face, staying close to Eddie while he tried to pry open the window. Eddie was a methodical worker, trying to fix the rusted window to open. 

“Come on, Eds. You’re so slow. We’re going to get caught, you pinhead,” Richie hissed. He fished a cigarette out his pocket, fiddling with it nervously. 

Eddie rolled his eyes. Richie always got snippy when he was nervous. After a couple more seconds of watching Eddie do some shit to the window- Richie rolled his eyes and threw a brick through it instead. They both jumped at the sound of it breaking- and went still. As if waiting for someone to run out and bust them. Richie wasn’t worried through. No one cared about much in Derry. Eddie resisted the urge to choke Richie, and instead settled for punching him in the arm with an easy grin. “Quit showing off. Race you inside?” 

Richie glared, and raised his voice an octave in what Eddie assumed was a terrible impression of him, “Thank you, Richie, for getting us in the creepy house. I couldn’t live with out you. OH, you’re welcome, Eddie. Anything for you, sugar.” He finished with a deadpan expression, his eyes landing moodily on Eddie. 

Eddie just pushed past him, “Why are you being such a dick? Just get inside.” 

Finally they carefully maneuvered through the broken window and dropped down to the dusty floor of the Neibolt house. They looked around at the dusty furniture and dim room. Richie’s breath hitched as he moved closer to Eddie, who only looked around calmly. 

“Richie, did you bring a flashlight?” He asked.

“Nope, I followed you all night to break into a definitely haunted house- without a flashlight.” 

Eddie scoffed, “Stop complaining. Seriously, what’s up with you.” 

Richie frowned, “I’m scared, Eds. I feel like we’re trapped in a terrible horror movie. Geez just look at this place- it’s screaming murder.”

Eddie nudged him with his bony elbow, “Well we’re not in a horror movie, so give me your flashlight.” And Richie handed it over without a second thought. 

Eddie turned it on, the small light illuminating the gigantic living room. He grinned at Richie, “This place is so cool- we are definitely coming back here in the morning.” 

And even though Richie knew undoubtedly that he would inevitably wake up and go anywhere with Eddie- he hoped they wouldn’t return to the house on Neibolt street. 

2003

It was only Richie’s third night in the asylum, and he already learned a couple of things: 

1\. It was never a comfortable temperature. Ever. It was always too warm or too cold. 

2\. None of the rules make sense.

3\. You do what they tell you too.

4\. No one has comfortable blankets.

5\. No one has real friends.

6\. This is probably worse than jail.

Richie’s roommate terrified him and never spoke- he only stared at him intently. And the nurses weren’t kind enough to explain that his roommate wasn’t a crazed serial killer. Richie wasn’t allowed to have pencils, or be unsupervised. Because for strange reason, he was on suicide watch. And worst of all, he had never wanted a cigarette more in his goddamn life. 

But it would be a cold day in hell before that happened. They don’t give lighters to arsonists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! <3


	2. In Hindsight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The fire.
> 
> The beginning. 
> 
> Football. 
> 
> And Jane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m super excited to continue with this series, who knows what will happen next?

Richie knew he probably would’ve gotten off easier if he hasn’t been so snappy to the cops. It was just- they kept asking the dumbest questions. It was just way too difficult to take it all in. 

“Was the fire an accident, son?” 

Richie narrowed his eyes and said something rude. So they replied by slamming him into a holding cell so fast, it was as if he had been begging for it. But seriously though- Richie was standing there with gasoline drying on his pants and second degree burns on his hands. Why even try lying?

It was mostly Richie’s own fault. He knew that. He supposed if he could blame anyone else, maybe it would be Eddie Kaspbrak. Eddie was bossy- even as a kid. He didn’t put up with defiance when he had already made up his mind and Richie was used to it. He wasn’t a leader- and Eddie was. It was natural for him to follow Eddie- he understood and accepted that. But looking back, Richie knew that sometimes it was better to have control over your own destiny. He knew deep down, that maybe he didn’t even want that control. 

This situation was one of those times. 

Looking around at his asylum room- Richie knew it. 

But Richie knew he shouldn’t be complaining because Eddie had it so much worse than him. He wasn’t even aloud to go outside of his room. 

But, like every other disaster they had gotten themselves into- it hadn’t all started bad. Things were actual pretty sweet until the last bit with all the screaming and flames and ambulances. 

Richie supposed that he should backtrack this story a little bit- so...

They didn’t actually hang out at school, Eddie and him. Eddie was pretty deep into the Popular Crowd, just by his involvement in sports. Meanwhile, Richie was in between being a part of the Nerds and Druggies- roughly in the middle of the high school hierarchy. It wasn’t exactly glamorous, but running drugs for Greta meant that he was a part of a group of Providers and Services- notable figureheads if the high-school economy- and that means he could make a months work of “minimum wage” in a week. Which was important- because he needed the money. 

Richie didn’t brag about it, but the way he looked really helped with not being caught. He was neat and organized. He was plenty fashionable, and intense about personal hygiene. Richie didn’t like people to know he was poor. So he was never suspected because of his looks, spotless record, and absolutely perfect hair. 

Richie and Eddie really only saw each other on school property at games. Their football team wasn’t technically the best, but since it was the only major sport in their town- people generally created a lot of hype. Richie doesn’t even like football, but he went to every game anyway. Eddie was ridiculously athletic and he was getting his time to shine this year- so Richie couldn’t miss it. He never cheered because it was too much work- BUT he went. And that seemed to be enough for Eds. 

After the games, they usually met up in the locker room before taking Eddie’s shitty car out to the field to fuck around in the grass. Wrestle and run. That sort of thing. It was tradition. It made it bearable that they didn’t see each other during the day. It was worth people not knowing they knew each other better than anyone knew anyone, really. They were so far apart on the social spectrum that it wouldn’t make sense to people if they started openly hanging out, so they preferred to keep it private. Okay Richie preferred fo keep it private. 

Eddie was good looking. He was a bit shorter than Richie- but not by that much. He had a sharp face with clever eyes, and he usually styled his hair but it had grown out now into lazy curls. He had the whole “good boy” look people went crazy for. He was also strong and athletic. It didn’t mean much to Richie, he just heard some girls talking about it in the hallway. 

Eddie was popular, unlike Richie, and of course he had a girlfriend. Her name was Jane, a bottle blond, UGG booted, prep with a perfect GPA. Richie hated her. He could’ve written sonnets about her pouty lips and golden hair and ivory skin and melodious voice. Not because he admired those things in a slightest- he couldn’t give less of a fuck about the way she looks. It was because he had to listen to Eddie babble endlessly about it. 

It’s not that Richie didn’t like girls. 

He just didn’t like her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


	3. Poetry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter, Beverly Marsh and her poetry.
> 
> Bill Denbrough and his raves.
> 
> Stanley Uris and his books.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> “We only accept the love we think we deserve.”

Maggie Tozier was special. She was an indoor mom who never went outside, except in emergencies. But still, Richie loved her. Richie knew that she was suffering from depression, that she tried to chase away with pills, sleep, and Jeopardy. Everything was hard for her. Getting up was hard, getting dressed was hard. Sometimes eating or even sitting up was hard. Everyday was a learning experience and an opportunity to help her everyday. Lucky for him, after the divorce happened and her depression hit- he knew how to cook on the stove and clean up after himself and his mom.  
So when Eddie’s parents started traveling a lot for work, Richie found himself in the position to take responsibility for Eddie too. It wasn’t a burden, because he was used to it and he was prepared. Sometimes when he was cooking he felt like depression hit his mom hard, so he could be ready to take care of Eddie. Like the fear and depression that choked her until she couldn’t move, happened so Eddie could knock on his door 3 years ago and admit he hadn’t seen his own mom in weeks. And it was as if Richie was ready- sitting him down and making him soup. It was a selfish though. Richie pushes it away whenever he can. 

So whenever Eddie pops into his house unannounced, he can’t be surprised. Eddie dropped his backpack in the floor and collapsed into Richie’s bed, waking him up with a start.Richie makes a noise that sounds like a startled puppy. 

“Richie, I met a girl today. A girl I think you would like.” 

Richie opened one brown eye, and then closed it again. His curly hair stuck up in every direction, as if he had rolled violently down a steep hill. Richie rubber his face and sighed loudly. 

Eddie scrunched up his nose in a way that made Richie want to hug him, “Don’t be like that, Rich. Plus you already know her, she graduated last year.” 

“What’s her name?” 

“Beverly Marsh. I was at the library and she was trying to check out some books, but she forgot her library card and she looked like she was in a hurry. So I gave her mine. I figured it would give us a reason to find her again.” 

Richie opened both of his eyes for the sole purpose of glaring at Eddie. “You’re stupid.”

Eddie only smiled at him, “Also she invited us to a poetry reading- and we’re going.” He declared. Richie could feel a headache catching up with him, “Eds you don’t even like poetry.” He groans. 

Eddie laughs, “Yeah. Of course I fucking don’t- it’s boring as shit. But you do because you’re a hipster fuck. I swear you’ll like her, just put on some clothes. We’re leaving at 8.” 

It was crowded and dark in the Derry Cafe. Richie had no idea so many people came to open mic nights- he was pushed so close to Eddie he was practically resting his head on his shoulder. He ignored whatever butterflies he felt coming on and slung his arm around Eddie’s neck so it would seem more intentional than just continuing to awkwardly breathe on his neck. The first two performers were okay- but it was the type of poetry that was rough and personal and escalated into yelling. That’s the type he didn’t like. 

“This is her,” Eddie whispered into the side of his face. 

Richie craned his neck to see. She was gangly and freckled, her ginger hair in the lights made it look like she was aflame. She had blue eyes that made looking at her face feel like you were watching a storm pass. 

“Hi, everyone, I’m Beverly Marsh and I’ll be reading my poem ‘Random Word Generator Input #17’”:

Bluffness. Knoll. Nautical.  
Hailing. Bravos. Valentines.

“Thank you.” 

The entire cafe erupted into confused muttering and half hearted snaps as she slowly got down from the stage with a cheeky smile. Eddie whipped around to grin at Richie- who only glared. “Shut up. You’re right, Eddie Kaspbrak. She’s fucking great. But shut up.” 

Richie saw Beverly push her way through the crowd towards them. “Eddie from the library.” She states. She digs around in a giant red purse for a bit. “I have your card.” She smiles as she pulls it out and hands it over. Eddie shoved it in his pocket with an easy grin, “Thank you so much. I really appreciate-“

“Your poem was great,” Richie blurted, like he has no control over his mouth whatsoever. Maybe there was a reason Eddie used to call him trashmouth. With a wince, he presses his thick lips together. Beverly only looked at him with a shrug. “It’s a bit abstract for this crowd. I’ve been trying new shit, you know? They don’t really like me here.” She said some other stuff but Richie was too busy staring at some of her eyeshadow. It was kind of clunky. He wondered what would even happen if that got into someone’s eyes. Something awful, no doubt. 

“Can you guys go somewhere else to talk? There’s a performance going on right now.” 

The Barista and half the people in there, including the person on stage glared at them. Beverly smiles, “Sure. Yeah. That would be best,” She replied and turned back to Eddie. “Thanks for the card, Eddie from the Library. It’s been great.” And with that she turned on heel and was gone before Richie could even say “nice to meet you.” 

“She’s perfect,” Eddie said softly as they were driving home, but his expression was cloudy. Like he was thinking hard about something. “She’s even mean, just like you like.” He finished. 

“I don’t like mean people, Eddie.” Richie protested leaning his head back on the car seat and closing his eyes. Eddie stared at him with a raised eyebrow, “You liked Bill.” 

Richie’s mouth went dry- because Eddie never talked about Bill. Eddie hates Bill. In fact, Eddie gets all snappy whenever Richie talks about Bill. But Eddie was right- Richie did, once upon a time, like Bill Denbrough.

It was Tuesday, and Richie was in gym. It was jogging mostly, and the teacher wasn’t particularly invested on whether or not the students were actually getting a well-rounded physical education experience. So they just ran around and around the gym as the coach sat in a gold out chair in the middle- reach for startles you walkers into running. 

Bill came up on Richie’s left side and fell into step with him. Shooting him a grin Bill asks, “How ya doing, space cowboy?” 

“Satisfactory. How are you?”

Bill shrugs, “Better. I broke up with Henry.”

Richie tossed back his head with a dramatic groan, “Finally! Wasn’t he the jock with a mullet?” 

Bill glared at him with a look that meant he would get punched if he said another word, but Richie has never been good at heading advice so he says, ”Whatever,” and smiles, “You can do better.” 

Bill looked him up and down. “I have, done better.” Richie just chuckles, “Unusually forward for eight in the morning.” Bill punches him in the arm with a snort. 

Bill Denbrough was one of his favorite people, besides Eddie of course. Before Bill transferred, everyone Richie knew had pretty much accepted the boringness that is Derry. They resigned themselves to hanging out in the woods, on the field, of at school under the bleachers. Then, one day, Bill dragged him and Stan and the twins a mile out to a better town that they didn’t even know existed. They’d even found a store that sold cigarettes to minors- which was pretty much the highlight of his freshman year.  
Richie actually dated Bill that year, but spent more time getting playfully (violently) punched than much else. They worked better as friends, in Richie’s opinion. But he did still go to concerts with him these days. Gritty things with shouting and mosh pits and rage. It was more Bill’s scene than his, really. Bill really dove into it, war paint smeared across his face while Richie just leaned back and watched, or closed his eyes and listened. Afterward, he’s take Bill out for ice cream and tacos. Then they’d split and he’d go home to his empty bed. He would dream of tattoos, fierce hugs, and blue eyes and try to decide if it was worth giving all that up just to avoid the punches. 

Richie usually ate lunch with Stanley Uris, Bill, and the twins. Stan was brilliant. He was extremely condescending, but useful if you needed practical advice or someone to critique your papers. He was short and slim, and his hair was riddled with light brown curls. Bill was a storm, with combat boots and electric smiles. He was pretty- but fierce. 

Then there were the twins, fraternal twins, Mike and Ben. They were odd. They looked nothing alike, but they preferred to communicate in glances and gestures, finishing each other’s sentences and generally rebelled in being creepy. They liked to dress alike despite the fact- the look nothing alike. For the most part they were both silent, but one was definitely meaner than the other. One of them was named Mike, he had kind brown eyes and a dazzling smile. The other, the meaner one, was Ben. But everyone just called them “the twins“. Why bother with separate names if they were literally never apart from each other? 

Once, Richie even caught Ben waiting outside a bathroom stall for Mike- just leaning against the wall and looking annoyed. Richie couldn’t really remember when they’d decided that hanging out with him, Bill, and Stan was all right. They just sort of showed up one day and no one told them to leave. 

So as the odd group sits together, there is a strange balance. Stan and Ben are discussion some homework shit. Bill is ranting about salads and how they shouldn’t be classified is food, and Mike is protesting. Everything is going as it should. Until-

“I’ve been looking for you all fucking day.” Eddie sat down at Richie’s lunch table. The light caught on his light brown hair. And Richie decided that Eddie looked especially adorable today. So he didn’t really notice that Stan, the twins, Bill, and mostly everyone in the vicinity turned to gape at Eddie. Jocks didn’t really go to this section of the lunchroom. Much less actually sit down. 

“Why are you here?” Stan demanded, obviously ruffled. Eddie ignored him and looked at Richie, “I found when Beverly works.” He said looked pleased with himself, and stole one of Richie’s french fries who groaned. “Eds, this couldn’t have waited until after school? Also this is more than a little creepy,” Richie said, popping a french fry in his mouth. Eddie scoffed, “I didn’t actually go looking for her, asshole. I saw her in uniform going into a diner.” He crosses his arms triumphantly. 

Richie raised an eyebrow but didn’t say a word.

“She’s a waitress,” Eddie crowed. 

Stan looked up from his work, seemingly done being shocked. “Who are you guys talking about?” 

“Beverly Marsh- she used to go to school here. She’s a poet, and apparently a waitress. I thought she was totally a dancer of some sort with what she was wearing when I saw her.” 

Richie glowered, “I don’t care what girls where or where they work Eddie. That’s their business. And I’m pretty sure that having any job is better than nothing.” 

Bill slung his arm around Richie’s shoulders and kissed him sloppily on the cheek. “You’re going to make someone a good husband some day,” He said, sounding happy but something in his voice sounded tight. Richie pretended not to notice Eddie’s glaring. 

Stan chuckles at that, “If he doesn’t go to jail on distribution charges,” he snorted- holding up a fry with a flourish. 

Eddie looks at Richie pointedly, “I say, we go see her at work.” 

“No, I don’t want to stalk anyone, Eddie. Go back to your table.” 

Eddie stood up and backed away, shooting at Richie annoyingly with finger guns. 

“Whatever man, it’s happening.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill Denbrough is a canon, hipster.  
> It was really hard choosing whether Ben or Mike would be the mean twin- cause bruh they are both so kind. 🥺


	4. Cupcakes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jane is annoying. 
> 
> Eddie isn’t very street smart. 
> 
> Beverly can beat Eddie up, is canon. 
> 
> Richie is whipped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea what to put here, enjoy!

“Why do you want this so much?” Richie had asked quietly, as he stirred the pasta sauce a couple times, then added a bit of salt. Eddie didn’t answer until Richie was finished making dinner- and even then his face was deep in thought before hesitantly answering. “I just want a new friend. But like, a cool secret friend that we can be with after school...” 

“You getting tired of me already?” Richie jokes, but he was aware of his heart leaping in his throat at the thought of it. Isn’t it funny how scared he gets at the thought of Eddie, getting tired of him. Eddie only smiles softly, looking less devious, “I’m pretty sure without you, I’d starve to death and never finish my homework. So you’re kind of nonnegotiable, to be completely honest.” Eddie said as Richie put down a plate in front of him. 

Richie could only grin, “Well, that’s reassuring. It’s nice to know I’m your chef/dad.” 

“Be thankful you don’t have to come to any parent-teacher conferences.” Eddie chuckled. 

Richie knew he shouldn’t have said it, but the words came out snidely, “Honestly, the only reason I think your parents go to this is because it’s the only way to keep Child Protective Services away,” 

Richie saw Eddie frown, his parents were consultants and rarely took time off from traveling for their jobs. It was still a sore subject but Richie couldn’t help it. It just made him so angry. But looking at the pout gracing Eddie’s face, made him reconsider going on a rant about his parents. 

“Also, we are not going to Beverly’s job.” Richie declared, picking up the pepper and brandishing it threateningly. Eddie’s eyes are light and mischievous when he says, “You say that, and yet it’s still happening.”

So that leads to where Richie was, sitting grumpily in the back of Eddie’s car. This is horrible. You don’t bother people at work. You just don’t. 

“Stop scowling, Richie.” 

“You can’t even see my face.” 

“I know you’re doing it anyway,” Eddie snapped. “I can feel you glaring at the back of my neck.” 

Richie had been looking at the back of Eddie’s neck, the part when his hair at the bottom began to curl. A rush of affection hit Richie and the annoyance again. Eddie’s such a dick. Richie sighed louder and sunk even father down in his seat. “What do you plan for us to do when we get there?” 

“It’s a diner, Richie. We order something- it’s not that hard. Then maybe we’ll wait for her to get off her shift and we can hang out of whatever.” 

“You’re the worst at this.” Richie frowned and stuck his finger through the hole in the headrest and poked at the back of Eddie’s neck. Eddie swatted at Richie’s hand, until he gave up and and sat back again with a huff. 

This whole plan, if Richie could even call it that. Went poorly. As expected. There was a reason Richie preferred the mean types. They were never boring. And Beverly Marsh surely wasn’t boring. She had been assigned to their table by some horrifying twist of fate. And based on the quantity of coffee she’d “accidentally” spilled on Eddie’s legs- she wasn’t pleased about being followed.  
Richie could only apologize profusely, and wound up giving her three times more than the normal tip just to buy himself into her good graces. But the second Beverly’s manager was out of sight, she grabbed Eddie’s arm and dragged him out to the door- all fire and embers. Richie could only follow with part amusement and part worry. Eddie was fragile, and if Richie had to fight the strongest waitress in Derry- he would. 

“Don’t you ever do anything like this again. Respect me, and my space.” Beverly hissed into Eddie’s face. His brown eyes were wide, “God, fuck. That hurts. I swear I’ll make it up to you. Do you like cupcakes? I’ll bring you cupcakes!” Eddie cried. He might’ve been pretty well built, but he was hunched over in Beverly’s grasp. Beverly shut the diner door in his face. 

Richie smacked Eddie on the back of the head as soon as they were in the car. “Oh jeez, it wasn’t that bad.” Eddie insisted. Richie crosses his arms in disbelief. “I can’t even talk to you about this right now. Take me home.” He demanded. Eddie huffed, but started the car. They drove in silence all the way to Richie’s house. Eddie kept his hands tight on the wheel as they pulled into the driveway- but Richie noticed the nervous glances he kept throwing his way. 

“I’ll see you later,” Richie said, he opened the door and stepped out. “Do you...do you have to go?” Eddie asked quietly, his voice becoming uncharacteristically soft. “It’s a Friday night...” 

Richie just stood silently, the door wide open. It was in these moments he was reminded that Eddie, was Eds. The person he cared about most in the world. The person he made spaghetti for and spends all his free time with. “I should say no to you.” He said after some time. 

Eddie waited. 

Finally, Richie got back in the car. 

Eddie took them to the woods. When they got out of the car, Richie put his hand on the back of Eddie’s neck and rubbed his thumb gently in the top of his spine. Eddie was a few inches shorter than him, but it never really mattered to Richie. Because he still felt that Eddie was bigger than anything else to him- more meaningful, more bold. Eddie was the bravest person Richie ever knew.  
“I’m not mad,” Richie said softly, “I just don’t like being a... burden on somebody.” And Eddie didn’t even look at him. He just let the words hang in the air awhile, and then he began to walk. And like always, Richie followed him. And it’s moments like those that remind him how to question how far he’d follow Eddie. 

Richie knew everything about Eddie. Eddie liked knickknacks. He had little sculptures and and statues and whatever you could think in his room. And though he looked like a jock, he was definitely more of an intellectual than Richie could claim to be. He spent a lot of the time in the library, reading up on history. It wasn’t something a lot of people knew about him. Just Richie. Sometimes Richie would break into the house on Neibolt street alone- and bring back all the oddities that he could find and he would slip in on Eddie’s window seal. 

Like a gift. 

Like a tribute. 

It was Monday, and Richie was eating lunch alone on the bleachers. He was trying to get through Rand’s, “The Fountainhead,” but that goal was looking bleak. He was 200 pages in with no character development, and he didn’t like a single character anyway. He was mostly reading to be able to say that he did. You’d be surprised how many people did that with the classics.  
But what was the most terrible, was the sound of Jane- Eddie’s girlfriend, sitting down next to him, uninvited. He side eyed her and frowned. Jane cleared her throat.

“Eddie is sick because you took him wandering in the woods,” she said frostily. Richie rolled his eyes. “He’s the one who took me into the woods. He either straight up lied, or your relationship has communication issues. You might want to look into that.” He said all of this with an irritated edge to his voice. 

Jane folded her arms. “How am I supposed to enjoy my boyfriend when he’s always with you or damaged in some way because of you? You’re really irresponsible.”

“One: I’m not his mom. I don’t have to take care of anyone but myself. And two: your relationship problems are not my problems.” Richie closed his book and turned to face her. “So please stay away from me. I’m busy.” He got up and walked down the bleachers away from her. 

Her face was flushed in anger, “Busy doing what? Selling drugs?” She shot back. 

“Nope, I’m off to a date with your mom! She’s expecting me.” 

So in reality, he was actually going to go sell drugs. What? He needed the money. He walked up to the seniors lockers in the 5th floor and found locker 0365, he tucked a small packet through the slit and made his way down to the third floor. 

He passed by a sophomore who raised his hand to high-five him. They grasped hands and chest-bumped, and he felt the other boy slip the money into his pocket inconspicuously with the greeting. 

“Thanks man, see you later.”

Rich nodded and smiled. 

Then he went to the bathroom to cut the cash, 30% for him- 70% for Greta. It was a good deal. He got more, because he was able to sell more than the other drug runners. And he was reliable, he never stole out of his supply, and most importantly, he never got caught.  
He found Greta on his way to the restroom and pulled her into a dark corner, kissing her hard and placing the money into the waistband of her pants. 

“Thank you, Richie.” She said in her strangely deep voice. 

“No problem.”

Richie snuck away from school during lunch and walked to the bank, he tossed what he’d earned this week from Greta on the counter and the teller collected it, and told him to have a nice day. 

And God, like every single time, he breathed a sigh of relief. 

“I haven’t seen Dad in a week and Mom’s away on business,” Eddie said gloomily as they walked into Richie’s house. Richie could tell that Eddie was actually sick- and Jane wasn’t just being a bitch so he turned to Eddie and pushed him toward the bathroom, “Go take a cold bath. I’ll fix you something to eat.” A half hour and one boiled can of soup later, Richie went up to his room to give Eddie his food and there was Eddie, curled in his bed almost against the wall, dressed in HIS clothes. His hair was still damp and the clothes were slightly too big for him- Eddie blinked up at him with a smile. Something about this, made Richie panic.  
“Oh my god. Get out of my bed, I’ll blow up the air mattress or something,” he gripes, setting the bowl down on his nightstand. Eddie rolled his eyes, “I’ve done worse. There’s plenty of room just get in.” And Richie did, but it didn’t mean he had to like it. “This is the gayest thing I've ever done.”

“You straight up had a boyfriend who you let-“

“I will literally throw you out of a window.”

Eddie sniffled and Richie handed him a tissue and waited for him to finish blowing his nose. Eddie turned and looked at him, laying on his side to face him, “Stop bitching,” He said quietly, “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we like each other or anything.” Richie thought about that for awhile. The statement wasn’t fitting correctly in his head. Not while he was lying this close to Eddie on his bed, and not while he noticed the way the moonlight seemed to fall on Eddie’s skin. But he didn’t think he could tell Eddie that- so finally he goes, “Yeah.” 

But Eddie was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man, Richie needs a break.


	5. The Wicker King

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stan is impossible to work with. 
> 
> Eddie makes cupcakes.
> 
> The Wicker King. 
> 
> The Man Behind The Curtain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy the chapter!

“So then, I just told Mrs. Byers that Steve didn’t adequately participate in the project, therefore, he should forfeit a percentage of the credit.” 

“Stan,” Richie groaned, “you can’t just say a guy doesn’t do work because he’s stupid and what he contributed wasn’t up to your caliber.” 

“Well, why not?”

“Because it’s ridiculous!” Bill interjected. “You’re acting like Steve didn’t even try.” 

“Agreed,” Richie said, twirling his spaghetti ate his spork. “You’ve got to work on being less critical, Stan. One day, you’re going to piss off too many lab partners. They’ll form a mob and burn you at the stake using all the papers you’ve ever aced as kindling.” 

Stan just snorted in dismissal and continued to neatly cut his pizza with a fork and knife. The twins furrowed their brows at her in disapproval. Simultaneously. 

“I just don’t know why I couldn’t work with one of you on the project instead of one of those average cretins,” Stan said dramatically. “I’m not that hard to work with.” 

“YES YOU ARE,” The entire table, and several people nearby, said loudly in unison. 

Richie came home one night and Eddie was in his kitchen wearing only Richie’s oversized sweater and boxers and an apron, stirring something vigorously in a mixing bowl. After a lot of screaming and apologizing, Eddie admitted that he was borrowing Richie’s kitchen and supplies to make the cupcakes he had promised Beverly in their last ill-fated visit, in preparation for making yet another ill fated visit sometime later that week.  
A visit he would be making whether Richie came along or not. Now that Eddie has recovered from their walk in the woods, he was super adamant about going back and bothering Beverly.  
There was some tense staring and indignant arm crossing, but eventually Richie caved. He wasn’t completely comfortable letting his best friend get savaged and left to bleed in an alley just to prove a point. At least- not this time. 

Later that week, they were at the library. It had been a quiet evening, very rare for Eddie and Richie. “Do you remember the game we used to play when we were kids? The Two Kings?” Eddie had asked suddenly. “Of course,” Richie said, looking up from his book. “Why?” 

Eddie picked at the library’s carpet and looked away. He did things like this often. Checked to see if his memories were real. Richie had asked him about it once, and he’d said it was kind of like going through a box of photographs. Eddie couldn’t describe it very well for him, so Richie never truly understood. All he knew was that when Eddie asked him to confirm a memory, he should do so as quickly as possible so the tension can fall from Eddie’s shoulders and the knot between his brows could come free. Sometimes, if Richie really wanted to please him, he’d elaborate on what he remembered. Illustrate it so Eddie could be completely certain that it did, in fact, happen. 

“I remember the attic of your house. The way the sun shone gold through the slate of your windows. The dust on the floor and the crowns we wore. I remember your throne, the Wicker Throne, and mine the Wooden Throne. I remember sitting on them, hands clasped between us. You were always the better king.” 

Eddie snorted, “I was annoying and hyperactive.” 

Richie just grinned, “You spent a week building me a crown of sticks and wire, even though yours was just bits of wicket hot glued to a stretchy headband. Do you still have them?”

Eddie shook his head. “The neighbors cat got mine and chewed it up ages ago. But I still have yours.” Richie lit up, his childhood nostalgia rearing on him.

“Can I have it?”

“No.”

“Why?”

Eddie looked up at him, “I’m saving it for something.” 

Richie hadn't thought about that game in years. He turned over in bed and looked out the window at the night sky. The last time they’d played, it was dusk. They’d been ten or eleven. Richie was squawky and loud- wearing big coke bottle glasses and Eddie short and restless. He remembered running and the sound of Eddie’s sneakers hitting the ground. If they’d gone fast enough, it would’ve felt like they were riding horses. Galloping through the underbrush with crows at their backs. Eddie tilted his head back and screamed at the sky, and Richie screamed with him.  
When Richie closes his eyes he could practically hear the beasts snarling behind them. Three-risked and woolly, with piggy snouts and cloven feet. They’d learned about wild pigs in class a couple days before, but Eddie couldn't get them out of his mind. He’d been drawing them over and over in his notebook, each one bigger and fiercer than the last until finally they’d torn through the paper and into the thicket. Richie and Eddie reached the bank, sliding in the trees and mud with the enemy closing in behind them. 

“They can’t cross the water!” Eddie had shouted. Richie went pale, “But I don’t know how to swim.” He had argued. He repeated the words now, whispering them into the darkness of his room.

“We’ll just go in a couple inches. I won’t let you fall.” Eddie had glanced back over his shoulder at him, smiled, and held out his hand. It was cold, but the water that filled up his shoes and socks was much colder. Richie remembered being worried about his mom and dad finding out about him messing up his shoes. There had been too much fighting and yelling in his house back then for him to bring up his shoes. 

Suddenly, Eddie turned back towards the trees and pulled out his sword, holding it high above their heads. The board and crowd and things with fur and talons clawed at the shore’s edge, angry that they’d been outmatched. Richie couldn’t see them, no matter how many times they played this game- but he knew they were there. By the quiver of Eddie’s hand, he knew to face the shore. 

The sun was setting, and Richie gazed down at the Wicker King. So fierce and proud, his chin jutting out so bravely, that Richie couldn’t help but lift his branch (sword) beside him. Eddie grinned at the sight. They were stronger together. They were always stronger together. 

Suddenly it was too bright, everything was too bright. Richie felt the air seize in his lungs, it was too much.  
So Richie had gasped, taken a step back, slipped on a rock and plunged beneath the surface of the water.

And Richie felt himself

(sink)

“Would you like to borrow my pen?”  
Richie looked over at the guy sitting next to him in surprise. They’d never spoken before, but here he was offering him a pen while he was clearly writing with a pencil already, “Um. No, man. I’ve got one.”

The guy looked frustrated. “You really need to borrow my pen,” he demanded, jabbing the pen further in Richie’s direction, eyes flickering nervously to the front of the room. 

Richie sighed and took the pen and peered at it closely. There was a bit of paper wrapped around the ink cartridge. Richie disassembled the pen and unrolled the paper. 

It Read: “Meet me in the locker room at 11am, near the supply rack.”

Huh.

Weird.

This wasn’t Eddie’s handwriting. 

Richie glances over at the boy who’d lent him the pen, “Where did you get this?” He asks narrowing his eyes in suspicion. The boy mouths, ‘I didn’t write it’

Fine. Someone was pulling some Scooby Doo bullshit and he was going to find out who it was.

11:00am

Of all the people he assumed could have sent him the note, he never would have guessed it was one of the twins. Neither of them played football and therefore had no business being in the locker room. Ben, (the meaner twin) leaned nonchalantly against a locker. “Good. You came.” He looked terrifyingly pleased to see Richie. 

“This is gonna sound rude, but this is a bit weird for me,” Richie said suspiciously. “I’ve never actually had a conversation with you- like ever. What’s going on?” Together the twins were harmless, but he’d never been alone with Ben before and it was really giving him the creeps. 

“Are you friends with Eddie Kaspbrak?” Ben asked, ignoring Richie’s question. 

“Yeah I’m not telling you anything until you explain what’s going on. Where’s Mike?” Richie narrowed his eyes. Ben just laughed, “You're so touchy. Well, we all have our secrets...but if you must know Mike is out running some errands for me. I sent him away because I needed to talk to you privately.” 

Sent him away? Huh. 

“I have other shit to do that doesn’t involve standing in a locker room while you’re being unnecessarily foreboding.” 

“Of course,” Ben said smoothly. He didn’t look impressed with Richie’s remark. “But I’m certain that what I'm going to tell you will be if interest to you. I know I’m not particularly nice. But niceness and kindness are two different things. And I, am nothing if not kind- regardless of what methods I use to achieve such a thing.”

Richie just stared at him.

“My mother is a psychologist, did you know that? I know it sounds irrelevant, but I swear to you it’s important. It’s just...” He paused, looking hesitant, “I noticed something about Eddie and thought you might benefit from some advice. I’m offering you use of my mom’s services, in our home, of course- and free of charge, should you ever need it. Something about Eddie reminds me of someone I used to know. And if my assumptions are correct you’re going to need all the help you can get.” 

Richie was not only still suspicious, but very annoyed. “What did you see?” He demanded. 

Ben narrowed his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re playing at,” He mutters. “You should be glad I’m even offering. I promise I won’t be the only one to notice something if he- if it gets worse.” 

Richie didn’t like how vague he was being, “Okay, first of all, Eddie’s fine, he’s always been weird but he’s fine. And no offense Ben, but this is a little creepy. You can’t blame me for being on edge.” 

Ben scowled at that. 

“But,” Richie continued gently, “I’m not stupid, and I know you wouldn’t make the effort unless it was a big deal. Especially without Mike. So thanks for the advice, but I’m sure that nothings wrong. On the off change I’m wrong about that, I’ll take you up on your offer.”

“Good,” the other boy said tersely. “See that you do.” 

From then on, Richie watched Eddie closely. He didn’t see anything wrong with him. Ben was probably just being an asshole and trying to freak him out for fun or something. He followed the angles of Eddie’s profile with his gaze, resting on the delicate curve of his ear and the slope of his nose. In Richie’s oversized sweater, it’s moments like these where he looks soft. Like the kid Richie grew up with rather than the athletic meat head in front of him. 

Eddie sighed. He pauses Mortal Combat and glanced over at Richie. “Why are you doing that?” 

“Doing what?” 

“Looking at me like that. Are you thinking about changing your mind about visiting Beverly tonight?” 

“No...no. It’s not that. I was just worried about something.” 

Eddie crinkled his nose and his eyes lit up, “Worried about...me?”

Richie tried not to flush at that, “Well, yeah.”

“Oh.” Eddie sat there for a while. “I like it,” He admitted. “You can keep doing it if you’d like.” 

“Doing what? The staring or the worrying?”

Eddie just smiled and unpaused the game.

Richie swore he could feel his heart trying to beat out of his chest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: The cupcakes are red velvet ❤️

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! ❤️


End file.
